


Mnemosyne

by Verin



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Art, Digital Art, Digital Painting, Don’t copy to another site, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2020-07-25 20:34:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20031928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verin/pseuds/Verin
Summary: Digital art as inspired by "you great unfinished symphony (you sent for me)" by ketchupcrisp... because I'm cool?





	1. 17: 'Date Night'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ketchupcrisp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ketchupcrisp/gifts).
  * Inspired by [you great unfinished symphony (you sent for me)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16679650) by [ketchupcrisp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ketchupcrisp/pseuds/ketchupcrisp). 

> I recently got into digital art after a loooong history of traditional art. I'm learning, and it's by no means perfect, but it's where my muse took me this weekend.

As found in Chapter 17 of _**you great unfinished symphony (you sent for me)** _by** ketchupcrisp**...

Excerpt (though I seriously recommend you read the full story):

> A lollipop (was that a chupa-chup? Tony hadn’t seen one of those since he was a kid) danced into his field of vision. He wasn’t honestly much of a sweets guy usually, but something about it seemed strangely appealing just then, so he made a grab for the stick and stuck the candy in his mouth as he kept an eye on the diagram of—wait, had Mark II seriously made Cap a photon-based shield? Had this version of Rogers actually accepted something like that, so contemporary and reminiscent of the technology of Tony himself rather than his father?
> 
> “I neglected to teach you about something pretty important during our lesson earlier. Could I maybe have a do-over?”
> 
> He wasn’t facing Bruce yet, so for just a couple of seconds Tony allowed himself to squeeze his eyes shut, pretending like a child that if he couldn’t see the problem, then he wouldn’t have to deal with it.
> 
> “I told you we’re good, Brucie. You don’t have to—well, whatever this is.” His ’s’ sounds came out muffled and clumsy from the lollipop, which just gave this whole thing a new level of absurdity.
> 
> “I want to. It was never that I didn’t want, well, pretty much anything you want to give me.” Tony couldn’t quite help but snort, which lead to Bruce reaching out to touch him for the first time in the conversation. It was a hand pressed to the small of Tony’s back, nothing in the grand scheme of things, but it felt like sucking in the first deep breath after nearly suffocating. “It’s true, Tony. I panicked because of my issues, which we can talk about later and at length if you want, but which are mostly about the fact that I’m still grieving too, and moving on is different in the abstract than it is in the material. I was scared and a little bit sad, and guilty because I never would have done something like that if I’d known the effect it would have on us both, not without talking about it first. But none of those reasons mean I don’t care for you, or want you, and none of them should have lead me to leave you alone after you’d just hit subspace for what I’m guessing was the first time. I am truly and deeply sorry.”
> 
> “Not…not a sub.”
> 
> “Maybe not in all the same ways as people in this universe,” Bruce agreed, moving another step closer so that Tony could feel the low rumble of the other man’s voice against his back. “We can talk more about that later, too. But that _was_ some form of subspace, Tony. And then you were pushed out of it suddenly and somewhat traumatically, which led you to drop pretty hard. It’s why it feels so good to be touched right now, and why a candy I know you don't usually even like tastes like the best thing you’ve ever eaten. Sugar is good for drops. But the best thing for it is aftercare.”
> 
> “Sounds…floofy.” This was not, perhaps, Tony’s most precise or scientific assessment. He was somewhat distracted by twinned and wholly opposing desires to push Bruce away and fold himself into something small that Bruce could wholly encompass.
> 
> “Mmm. Aftercare can take all kinds of forms, some ‘floofier’ than others. Can we give a few a try, see if they work for us?”
> 
> He wanted to say no. It was terrifying to face the prospect of actually acknowledging what had happened between them when all Tony had tried to do all day was erase it from his mind. But then, it wasn’t like that had really worked, was it?
> 
> “I…can I keep looking at this while you do…whatever it is?” Bruce spared a brief glance toward the holoscreen and smiled.
> 
> “Ah, the energy shield. Yeah, of course you can. You can tell me if you have questions about it, too, though I wasn’t directly involved in that one. I’d like us to be sitting, though; JARVIS, can you transfer the data to a screen closer to the couch, please?” The hand at the base of Tony’s spine turned directive, exerting just enough pressure to lead him to the corner of the shop where the couch sat. “Before I go any further though, we’re going to need to have a brief conversation about boundaries. I’m familiar with the ones you’ve already established for the usual education sessions, but since this is a little more…experiential, let’s say, I need to know about any limits you have, specifically arout praise and pet names, and non-sexual physical affection.” Bemused, Tony shrugged.
> 
> “Dunno. Never really.” And then he stopped talking before he managed to make himself sound any more pathetic. Bruce sighed and dug into a small black duffle bag he’d brought with him, emerging with—“Should I also indicate any deep-seeded hang-ups I have regarding fuzzy socks?” Bruce smiled, the fond one that crinkled all the lines near his eyes and mouth, and then proceeded to pull Tony’s feet into his lap, undo the laces of his shoes and tug them off, along with his black silk socks.
> 
> “Carol helped out with the photon energy. For the shield,” he clarified, because Tony’s access to his faculties became almost non-existent when Bruce started massaging his feet. He knew how to press hard enough to avoid tickling, and he even got in between Tony’s toes and manipulated the arches. Tony tipped his head back and made an aborted sound that would have definitely been a moan. “No, you're good sweetheart. You can make any sounds you want or need to. Aftercare is all about helping both the Dom and the sub to stay steady after a scene is done. It keeps me steady to know you’re feeling nice.”
> 
> “The…the flexible containment matrix. It was…plasma, right?”
> 
> “Based on an earlier version SHIELD made, yeah. Means it can be turned into any shape, though Steve being Steve, well he likes the familiar. He rarely takes advantage of that function when he uses it.” He whined, just a little, when Bruce stopped massaging him, but the thick, fluffy socks he slid up Tony’s feet afterward did actually feel pretty nice. “JARVIS, dim lights by 30% and put on some Mozart. Uh, let’s go Symphony 40.”
> 
> Tony got enough rich boy jokes without indulging in his fondness for classical music very often, but he didn’t have it in him to protest. So much classical music was beautiful because it was math, after all, and the symmetry of this particular piece was imminently soothing even despite its somewhat aggressive tone. Bruce’s fingers tapped out an accompanying rhythm in 6/8 time against Tony’s side, and he sighed happily, letting his body sink into the couch.
> 
> “You did so well today. I didn’t have the chance to tell you, but feeding you was incredible. You were perfect and responsive, everything a Dominant could ever have wanted. I could have stayed there with you just like that for hours. Even if you never do anything like it again, I’m honoured that you gave that gift to me.” Bruce didn’t give Tony the chance to come up with a snarky reply designed to put some distance back between them. He always paired praise with some kind of remark about the shield schematics so that the discomfort of receiving such open approval was tempered with cool logic. It would have driven pretty much all Tony’s previous partners crazy to have him vacillating so rapidly between science and romance (or whatever romance-adjacent thing this was), but especially with Bruce the one really didn’t seem like a distraction from the other. Even in his own world, Tony and Bruce had always been intellectually compatible if nothing else, so it felt like a natural way to build on already-existing form of intimacy. Tony hummed in contentment and tipped his head back.
> 
> “S’nice.” He wanted to say more than that. He should thank Bruce, at least, or ask questions about aftercare to put this back on the level of the theoretical. (He couldn’t. There was nothing remotely abstract about the feeling of being pressed against Bruce, being told he was good, talking about science and music and math and physics with no sense of urgency, like Bruce could happily stay there forever.)


	2. 19: Fantasy and Reality

As found in Chapter 19 of _**you great unfinished symphony (you sent for me)** _by** ketchupcrisp**...

The excerpt provided does not do the full scene justice, however it was this section of the scene that was most powerful for me. I think I said in my own comment on the chapter that Steve's dominance is effortless in a way we don't see with the rest of the team, because he _has_ to live and breathe this by his very nature. Taking care of his sub is as simple as breathing. That is what inspired this piece. Excerpt (though I seriously recommend you read the full story):

> “Oh fuck, fuck that’s so good. I could fuck your throat for days, do you know that?” Thor moaned in enthusiastic agreement with this plan, and the heavy vibrations against Steve’s cock spelled the end. He came with a shuddering cry, fingers roughly settling into Thor’s long blonde hair.
> 
> Steve truly had needed to get work done, but neither he nor Thor had been in a hurry to wrap things up when they’d returned to the tower. So Steve had stripped Thor down to the rope once more and settled him at his feet while Steve drafted a proposal he hoped would answer a lot of the questions they were getting about the workplace orientation pilot program. It had been incredible to have a sub so casually nearby while Steve did something mundane. But…well, he dared anyone with a pulse to have a naked, desperate Thor kneeling in front of them and remain entirely focused on business. When Thor had pleaded to suck him for the third time in half an hour, Steve just hadn’t been able to deny his sub again.
> 
> Need for air finally overcoming his desire to remain attached to Steve’s cock, Thor lifted his head and drew a deep, gasping breath. Then he settled his head against Steve’s thigh, pressing a pattern-less mess of kisses and bites against oversensitive skin.
> 
> “Want me to return the favour?” Steve offered. As he’d anticipated, Thor shook his head; when he was nearing the end of a scene, Thor usually chose to avoid orgasm. He found that staying hard helped head off the worst of his drops, which could otherwise be quite severe once he was released from bondage. “Alright. You did beautifully, darling. I’ve just realized I left that case of juice you like upstairs after movie night, so I’m going to run up and get it, okay? I won’t untie you until I get back, and then I won’t leave again. We can stay together for the rest of the day. Sound good?”
> 
> “It sounds…most wonderful. If you are certain you can spare the time?”
> 
> “I am absolutely certain,” Steve said firmly. He draped a blanket around Thor’s shoulders, slid on a pair of pyjama pants, and jogged to the elevator.


	3. Chapter 3

**Excerpt from Chapter 30: Rest from "_you great unfinished symphony (you sent for me)_"**

Tony slept in his arms for nearly fourteen hours, and Steve didn’t waste a single second of that time on his own sleep. He spent several hours creating a mental catalogue of everything about how Tony felt in his arms—the small twitches and movements he made, what words or touches made the creases that occasionally formed between his brows even in sleep go soft and smooth again, the single perfect ringlet of hair right at the back of his neck—Steve learned all of it in as much micro-detail as he could manage while Natasha lounged next to them, her expressions ranging from amusement to something more quiet and contemplative.

After the other Tony had died, Steve had had vivid fantasies about exactly this scene: the chance to lay in bed and watch his lover for just a little longer, commit even more of his mannerisms and expressions to his already encyclopedic memory of all things Tony. Dr. Domen, though, had worked hard to make him see that the sharpness of his memories of Tony, their refusal to fade, was not just a product of the serum. It had been another symptom of Steve’s unconscious efforts to structure the very counters of his mind around the fantasy of being able to keep Tony alive and present.

As he watched the rise and fall of this Tony’s chest somewhere around hour ten, Steve realized that he was fairly sure the pattern was slightly different from his predecessor’s, but he couldn’t quite put a finger on how. Had the other Tony’s breathing been slower, maybe, or smoother? He couldn’t quite remember anymore. And that hurt; it scraped, and gnawed and tore at his insides, because it was horrible and because it was freeing. He’d held himself prisoner to his memories for so very long that he hadn’t even been able to really see the version of Tony he now held in his arms for who he was. (Just now, though….just now he was all Steve could see, like a mural that covered even the ceilings in exquisite, encompassing detail.)

Around hour twelve, Tony stirred and mumbled,

“You…warm.” This was not the first complaint Steve had ever received from a partner about the serum’s impact on his base body temperature, and he regretfully made to roll over and put a bit of distance between he and Tony; the second he tried Tony was reaching out to clutch almost desperately at him.

“Shh, shh, I’m sorry sweetheart. It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere.” Natasha pulled the comforter away from Tony’s body instead, and she chuckled softly when he sighed happily and settled back into Steve’s arms.


End file.
